


The Shady Gas Station

by Carol989, imincognitobtch



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Banter, Fancy Cars, M/M, Pandoran Economics, Sexual Tension, Smut in chapter 3 i promise, Stranded Together, me and carol's lovechild, real life AU, slow build kinda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:16:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6759247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carol989/pseuds/Carol989, https://archiveofourown.org/users/imincognitobtch/pseuds/imincognitobtch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rhys's car breaks down in this tiny ass gas station to wait till morning, he is joined by an unlikely visitor. Namely the biggest asshole in existence.</p><p>What he didn't expect though, was to spend the whole time freaking <em>talking</em> to the guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **imincognitobtch:** I honestly don't know how this happened? Carol and I were just straight up writing a funny prompt where Jack and Rhys are both stranded in this gas station and end up meeting and bonding. But no, this turned out to be a whole night of talking about Pandoran economics.
> 
>  **Carol989:** I have no idea how my first joined writing turned into a whole afternoon writing economic banter rhack, but boy, oh boooy, am I glad anyway that was a freaking adventure
> 
>  **Our original prompt:** Both our cars broke down and we just made it to this tiny gas station to wait till morning but the whole place is really creepy.

When Vaughn told Rhys to fill up his gas tank before going driving out to Hollow Point City, he should have listened. Now he was stranded in what had to be the middle of nowhere in the shadiest gas station he'd ever seen. Looking around, there were miles and miles of desert.

The terrifying bit was the fact that the sun began to wane in the horizon, signaling the start of night. Without any foresight to have stocked up on any food or water, Rhys was stuck sitting at the driver seat, watching as his fuel gauge pointed frighteningly close to empty.

Swearing under his breath as he exited the car, he noticed another, more expensive looking car parked nearby his own. The owner was nowhere to be seen.

Moving closer, he saw the gold license plate labeled as “H4ND50M3-J” shining from the rear of the car. It was far cleaner than his own, considering the fact that he had driven miles through the desert sand, with the sickest looking interior design.

With excitement he moved to the peripheral, jiggling the side door only to find it locked. Pouting, Rhys settled for pressing his forehead against the glass to squint through the shaded windows, admiring the black lavished seats encrusted with golden lining.

Of all the places to leave such an expensive vehicle--an abandoned gas station? Only one of two things could have been the answer:

One, he had a sweet new ride.

Two, he wasn’t alone. He silently prayed whoever was there with him was not a serial killer. Because, seriously, the whole situation screamed: horror movie. And no matter if Rhys was alone, without gas in the desert, he was too young to be murdered.

Turned out fate had the nastiest sense of humor, because the next thing he knew, he found himself nearly tripping over his own feet at the appearance of the “h4nd50m3” owner.

“You really suck at stealing shit. I wouldn’t consider thief as a potential career choice if I were you.”

Rhys, at this point, was caught mid-shriek as he flattened himself against the side of the car.

“So! I noticed your station kinda sucks. I’d get it cleaned up if I were you. I mean, the bathrooms had no toilet paper.” He rattled on, crossing his arms as he scrutinized Rhys with a pensive expression, “Been here dry for an hour waiting for someone to show up. You’re also kinda understaffed. Anyway, you going to change my gas for me or what, lazy ass?”

Finding his voice, Rhys managed to straighten himself, and cleared his throat, “I don’t work here. I was kinda waiting for someone to show up too. And I’m not trying to rob you,” he frowned, “It’s just… it’s a nice car, alright? I got distracted.”

The stranger was not impressed, instead glancing at Rhys’s car with obvious distaste.

“Oh, is that trash heap your ride then? Poor taste I gotta say, but I admit, it has some spunk to it. A yellow paintjob?”  

Rhys noticed the eerily yellow sweater peeking out of the stranger’s coat, and the yellow sneakers--not really dressed for royalty, this one. Okay, so, maybe not a murderer, but definitely an asshole. And the rich kind too. His night only got worse and worse.

He fought hard not to stare at the man’s fashion sense, instead reaching out shake the other’s hand, “I’m Rhys, by the way. I was on my way to Hollow Point City, but my car ran out of gas.”

The stranger pointedly looked at the offered hand and ignored it, “Didn’t ask. But the name’s Jack.”

 _Rude_ , Rhys recollected his offer and tried not to pout. He couldn’t believe he would need to endure that type of guy for god knows how long.

“Right,” he mumbled under his breath, trying for patience, “Anyway Mr. Jack, do you know if this place is still up and running?”

Jack snickered and gestured around him, “Does it look like it’s still up and running? You're the first person I’ve seen around here, kid. Not counting the rats.”

He vaguely wondered if Mr. ‘Jack’ knew how not to sound like a complete asshole, but being a pacifist, Rhys conceded with a sigh, saying, “Well, I’ll try to have a look around. Might as well.”

Moving away from the other man, he approached the towering gas station roof extending over the equipment. It was completely deserted at first glance, but he noticed a small deli at the far-off corner with a paper labelled “closed” taped onto the glass door.

To his surprise, Jack followed him, looking every bit bored out of his mind, “There's nothing around here, cupcake. I’ve looked around. It’s a waste of time -- unless you're looking for ghosts and dust.”

“Ghosts?” Rhys repeated trying to not show how that had affected him. Vaughn always made fun of him for being gullible, and by the devious smirk growing on Jack’s face he wasn’t the only one, “Ha-ha, very funny. If you've seen it already then don’t come.”

“Nah, pumpkin, gotta protect you from the ghosts. What else you afraid of? Werewolves? Fairies? Evil dust bunnies?”

Instead of humoring him, Rhys looked around again only to notice a sign behind one of the gas equipments saying.

> _Closing time 5:30 PM_
> 
> _If in need of assistance, or if someone wants to help me reach second base, call: xxxxx-xxxx-xxxx._

“Oh hey! Look at this here,” Rhys grinned at Jack, “Thought you said you saw everything already?”

The man didn’t dignify him with an answer, simply pushing him aside to look better at the sign. Squinting as he approached the board, Rhys read out the words “catch a riiiide?” written below in black marker with question in his voice.

“Catch a what?”

Rhys ignored Jack and pulled out his phone to type out the numbers scribbled hastily onto the sign. He hit the call button and waited as it went on for several rings.

 _“Hey, this is Scooter’s new and improved catch-a-riiiiide. And I mean that as in you can totally catch a ride on me. Ha-ha. I'm talking 'bout dicks.”_ A voice drawls from his phone, _“Anyway, what can I do ya for?"_

“Hello! Mr. Scooter? I was wondering if we could get some help here--”

_“Aww man, is you a dude? Sorry man but I’m kinda busy at the moment. Here, talk to my sister Ellie.”_

There was a short scramble heard over the phone and he turned to look at Jack who just shrugged at him.

Finally, a female voice spoke, _“Heya, this is Ellie. Something troubling you folks?”_

“Yeah, our cars ran out of gas, and there isn’t a station near here that can fill us up. Do you think someone could come and power-up the station for us so we can use the equipment?”

_“Sorry sweetums, the drive there is about five hours from here. That’s why we close-up so early.”_

Panic filled him, “Wait! But how are we going to leave? Are we supposed to wait for you until morning?”

“Ah, hell, no. I’m not waiting in this pile of scrap,” Jack grumbled, “Kid, give me the phone. Lemme have a few words with them,” he tried to grab it only to be swatted away by Rhys who mouthed at him to stop.

_“Tell you what, I’ll let you in on the way to getting to the station generator. You just gotta turn on the switch and the pumps are yours. Just make sure to turn it off before you go, okay?”_

“Um… sure. Where?”

 _“There’s a small tower behind the deli--don’t worry it’s a short climb. Just climb on up and turn on the generator.”_ So they didn’t put the generator on leveled ground like normal people would.

“Okay. Okay, that’s do-able.” Rhys sighed, “How do we pay you back? Should we leave cash behind? Something as thanks?”

“I’m not going to pay those dumbasses for having a shit pile of a gas station,” Jack crossed his arms and was promptly ignored.

 _“Naw, sweetheart, I already have your number for that.”_ She told Rhys coyly.

Oh god.

In the background, he heard a cry of, _“Ellie! You cheatin’ on me?”_

Rhys hung up.

Scooter _had_ mentioned they were brother and sister, right?

Shuddering at the thought of it, he turned back to Jack and raised up his hands in mock defeat, “Well, I guess we have to do some climbing.”

“We?” he raised an eyebrow,

“Yes, I dunno anything about generators or how power works so,” he shrugged, before adding, “And also I don’t exactly have a rich person phone with 3G so it’s not like I can google it.

Jack huffed, “We don’t need to google it, cupcake, this shit is simple: you move your ass up there and pull the lever until this place lights up like a Christmas tree or it explodes on your face.”

“It’s not going to _explode_ ,” Rhys replied, not managing to sound sure.

“You sure?” he provoked, “You don’t know anything about generators after all." He paused dramatically, before grinning, "Come on, Rhysie, don’t give me that face, I’m kidding. Worst case scenario, shit’s not going to work and we freeze to death. Well, you do, cuz my car has central heating -- Hey, where you going?”

Rhys walked away from the frankly annoying discussion -- he was fairly sure pissing him off was Jack’s amusement for the night. They both end up on the bottom of what had to be the ladder that led to the generator, watching it with completely different levels of humor.

“What are you waiting for, hot shot?” Jack nudged him, “Go light it up.”

“Oh, but I’m wearing slacks,” Rhys whined quietly to himself. They were his favorite too, and now he’d risk ripping them at the seams.

The pure strength of the judgmental look Jack gave him made Rhys sigh.

“Fine, fine...”

Scowling at him, he reached a hand forward to begin his ascent. It wasn’t a particularly great height, but the angle of the ladder was somewhat steep, and he found himself wincing in fear as the metal underneath his fingers creaked and seemed to rattle.

To his shock, he realized that Jack had been shaking the ladder from the bottom just to mess with him.

Looking back over his shoulder to peer down at Jack, he called out, “Could you please not do that--” The man was leering unabashedly at him, more specifically his ass. His mouth opened, only to close as Jack looked back up at him with sly amusement.

“Sorry, pumpkin, the view's distracting,” just like that he started to stare again, without a drop of shame.

“Um--” Rhys swallowed thickly, turning away unable to answer, and instead opted to continue climbing as he tried to hide the redness growing on his face.

He reached the top of the tower to find an electrical box with several nodes attached that stretched away from the tower and over to the gas station.

Shooting Jack a discreet glance over his shoulder, Rhys reached forward and pulled the chord with maybe a little too much force.

Almost instantly the lights of the station flickered on and they both heard a hum that signaled the functioning of the equipment. He smiled at his victory - ready to rub it in Jack’s face - but it was short lived as he climbed down. One of the steps wobbled and Rhys lost his balance, falling back with a yelp.

With total honesty, he expected certain, painful death - it was not near that high but still. It all lasted for less than a second before there was a pair of strong hands pushing the back of his thighs forwards until he managed to grab the ladder again.

“Sorry!” he said quickly, hating how his voice cracked, face aflame as he ignored the other cackling.

“Shit, princess, can’t even walk without killing yourself?” He teased, “Wouldn’t even hurt though, huh? You're lighter than a bird. I would ask if you eat but… I can see you got some meat on you.”

There was a moment where Rhys really thought the ground would swallow him whole. Jack’s hands were still a very obvious presence on his ass, and Rhys messily tried to kick him away with a colorful string of curses. The man let him go with a chuckle.

He hopped back down unable to bring himself to meet the other’s eyes, but he knew there was no point in covering up the fact that his face had become increasingly red. To his surprise, Jack seemed to let it go.

Both men made their way back into the gas station, taking in the new surroundings with the light shining brightly overhead. Rhys fiddled with one of the machines nearer to where their cars were parked, and was relieved to find it all operational.

With the little fuel still left in his car, Rhys attempted to start the engine.

His Ford Thunderbird gave it all it got, cranking as it vibrated under his fingers, but didn’t cause a spark. He tried several times to get the engine going, but even at that point, Jack was looking over at him from his own car in pity at the sound of his futile attempts.

“Problem?”

Rhys shot him a glare, before trying one more time and leaving his keys in the ignition.

Trying very hard not to show his frustration, Rhys exited the car, leaving the door open as he marched away from the gas station to calm down.

It seemed as though life determined to screw with him today.

He’d probably met the king of all the assholes and now _he_ was the one who had to deal with a shitty car. Rhys took a deep breath, staring at the road and telling himself he should start to listen to Vaughn in case he ever managed to get home again. A loud metallic noise caught his attention, and he turned only to see Jack opening his car’s hood.

“Hey! What're you doing?” Just what he needed, to have Mr. Douche screwing with his fucked Ford.

Jack, as usual, paid no mind to him, “A favor, cupcake. You're welcome.”

“I don’t need you to--”

Rhys was cut short by the man inclining forward and blowing air into the engine, making a cloud of sand fly from it. It was… a lot of sand. Rhys had to admit, he had no clue how what had to be a considerable part of that desert hell hole ended up inside his car. Still, he let out a small, ashamed, “Oh.”

Jack scowled and stepped back, waving that cloud away, “Dammit. I don’t know what the shit you did to this thing, but you fucked up the engine real good, kiddo. When was the last time you cleaned this?”

“Uh, since I bought it?”

“Since you--for fuck’s sake, when was that, ten years ago?” Jack closed the hood without gentleness, “I’m shocked this crap could even bring you here, seriously. You better have another car up your pocket, 'cuz this one is not going anywhere.”

“Great,” Rhys huffed, looking like he was about to cry, “ _great_.”

“Stop sulking, pumpkin, I can take you to Lynchwood,” he announced as if it was an obvious fact.

“You… what?”

“ _Lynchwood._ There are, you know, people there. To fix whatever problem you have, so you'll quit the whining.”

For once Rhys found himself somewhat speechless; perhaps he’d been wrong about Jack all along,

“Wow… Jack. Thanks.” Rhys said sincerely, meeting Jack’s eyes to somehow convey his gratitude.

“Yeah, well, don’t mention it,” he muttered, shifting slightly on his feet, “Don’t go thanking me so soon Rhysie, we can’t really go anywhere in the dark.”

After that, they sat down near the gas equipments in a companionable silence. Jack joining him after grabbing two bags of pretzels (always fucking pretzels) and throwing one at him. For a major ass, the man was turning out to be weirdly… nice.

Rhys shivered as the cold, desert air hit him. The night gave the place an eerier air that would’ve left him scared if he was alone. But sitting there, under the fluorescent, flickering light and surrounded by pure darkness and stars with someone else was almost soothing.

He risked looking at Jack, taking the man’s form better now that he was not spilling bullshit. He was… attractive was not the word, he was downright hot, no denying. His shoulders were broad and from his pulled sleeves Rhys could see his arms were thick with muscle. Just to make it worse, Rhys’ couldn’t help but admire his strong jawline and that swept dark hair. 

Unfortunately, his ogling didn’t go unnoticed.

“So,” Jack started with a grin that sent a shudder down Rhys’ back, “What’s a pretty thing like you going to do in  _Hollow Point?"_

“I was going to visit my sisters--Fiona and Sasha.” Rhys explained, willing away his previous thoughts lest he pop something he really didn’t want to, “We were gonna celebrate me graduating from college.”

At this, Jack choked on his pretzel.

“Oh--are you--” Rhys tried to say.

But the other pounded his chest, coughing as he managed to get out a strangled, “College? How old are you exactly?”

“Twenty-five?”

Jack recomposed himself with a contemplative expression, “Huh. Thought you were older.”

“Why, how old are you?”

“Thirty-eight.”

Rhys’s eyebrows shot up, “Wow. Older than I thought.”

There was no shame in admitting that he had a thing for older guys. Particularly, this older guy.

And a bloody hot one at that.

Rhys’s face betrayed him and he visibly winced at his traitorous thoughts.

“Something wrong with your face?” Jack’s smile made clear he knew way too much.

He cleared his throat, “What about you? What brings _you_ here?”   

“I’m visiting my daughter,” he added as an afterthought, “She’s staying with a friend. Business trips can be a pain in the ass, not that you would know.”

“Oh, you have a-- so are you…?”

Rhys trailed off awkwardly, not wanting to finish the thought in the case that it was true. Not that he’d ever admit to it. He wouldn’t need either by the way Jack’s knowing smirk only grew.

“Don’t worry, cupcake, I’m a free man. Wouldn’t be fair with the world otherwise,” he winked.

Rhys’s breathing stuttered, “That’s---that’s not what I meant.” But his blushing face betrayed him. Trying to change the subject he said,  “So a daughter huh?”  

“Stop wagging your tail, she’s twelve.”

Rhys sputtered a protest only to glare at the other man at the sight of his grin. Jack had an uncanny way of making him embarrassed about literally _everything_.  

“What’d you do in college, kid? I’ll guess, hm… You look fancy but broke, so, visual arts?”

He snickered, “You couldn’t have gotten it more wrong.”

“Spit your story then, we have the whole night. And, to your luck, I’m bored.”

“Well it’s always been my dream to work at Hyperion,” Rhys explained, eyes downcast like he was feeling shy in sharing a part of himself, “I’ve been working on my application since I graduated. I’ve got some internship and work-experience so I hope they hire me.”

Jack was oddly quiet, humming to himself before asking, “Hyperion, is that so… What branch you aiming for?”

“Probably either robotics or something to do with computer science engineering.” He turned to gaze up at the man briefly before looking away, “I like Hyperion more than the other multi-national corporations.”

“Why’s that?”

“I dunno, they just have spirit. I love their drive and ambition. Their latest technological designs have been extremely ambitious and revolutionary--Dahl and Tediore have been trying to catch up since Hyperion’s business boomed, but their growth has been accelerating so fast.”

He continued, “Plus, they’ve been providing a lot of foreign direct investment to countries like Pandora that don’t have the resources for sustainable growth and development. I mean, I’m not saying that Hyperion’s investments aren’t about self-advancement, but I think it’s great that they’re causing both growth in Pandora’s domestic markets as well as their own privatized firms.”

Barely taking a breath, Rhys said seriously, “And not only does it benefit Hyperion with increased revenue and the availability of cheaper costs of production from all the labor in Pandora, but the host country can also combat their account deficit, and focus entirely on economic growth. Did you know that Pandora’s employment rate increased in the first year of Hyperion setting up private firms there? They improved the business of local industries by using their goods in their own production, and they even supply jobs for Pandoran labor. Hyperion changed the world and it’s going to continue in that direction.”

Rhys stopped his discourse when he noticed Jack was staring at him with raised eyebrows as if he was a very unexpected but amusing show.

“What?” he inquired, suddenly self conscious.

“There is more in your hollow little head than I thought,” Jack grabbed another handful of those disgusting pretzels, “You even sound smart. Don’t mind me, princess, go on.”

“I-- That was it. Man, why are you looking at me like that?”

Jack munched thoughtful, “Are you _sure_ about becoming part of the robotics or dumb computer science departments? I mean you sound like the type of guy who’d really rock with marketing or business economics. Hyperion’s got enough nerds to go around--we need people that can think one step ahead of the game.”

“We?”

Rhys watched as Jack reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. Turning on the display, there was a background image of a Hyperion poster with a familiar face standing proudly at the center, “He look familiar to you?”

“You--oh my god--” Rhys nearly choked on his own spit, eyes blown open, “You’re _the_ Handsome Jack?”

“In the flesh,” he clicked his tongue, “tried to keep it on the downlow. Honestly, kinda offended here you took so long since you’re apparently such a Hyperion fanboy.”

“I’m not a fanboy!” Rhys all but cried, and all but stuttered, “I mean--I love your work, and I _love_ the competitive environment you give to the place, I love--look, I’m not obsessed okay? It’s admiration, it’s nothing like--why are you looking at me like that?”

“Woah, Rhysie, you really are doing a great job convincing me,” Jack mocked, “Tell me, how many posters of me do you have? Is it like, five or a whole wall?”

“Listen, those were given by Hyperion representatives, they hardly count!”

Jack whistled, “Damn, kid. Just--damn. But don’t worry about it. I’d be more creeped out if you weren’t even a little bit Jack-sexual.”

“You self-centered--” Rhys stopped himself before sighing in defeat, “I give up. Go away, I am through with you.”

“I’m not the one laying it thick on Hyperion economics here.”

“It’s all interest-based on current events! It’s not an--an _obsession_.”

“Yeah? Why’s your Ford yellow again?”

Rhys swallow back a biting retort.

“Thought so.”

“You’re a fuck-boy.”

“A what now?”

“A fuck-boy.”

“Is that what you kids these days call a handsome, awesome guy like me?” He shrugged with a satisfied smirk, “Hell yeah, I’m a fuck boy then.”

“Oh my god I should have taped that,” Rhys pulled out his phone far too late, “That would have gotten me so much money. Wanna say that again?”

“Too slow, princess. Anyway, what was that about foreign direct investment, Rhys? I got lost in your passionate, fanboy eyes.”

“Okay, fuck you. To be fair, Hyperion caused a lot of shit on Pandora. All the fucking water is radioactive.”

For once, Jack looked affronted, “If you’re talking about environmental factors, sweetheart, Pandora’s not exactly rich in being a safe, natural habitat.”

“You mean _after_ Hyperion extracted all the resources and turned it into a desert? Yeah, I can see why not.”

“Okay, aren’t you meant to be obsessed with Hyperion? Where’d all the love go?”

Rhys actually replied to this seriously, “We can’t improve a company from looking at the positive externalities alone, Jack. I’m sure you know that.”

Jack raised his eyebrows, and said, “That suggestion about you becoming part of the business economics department still stands, you know.”

“What would I have to offer?”

“Hyperion bypasses any trade barriers from Pandora, since we don’t actually produce imports that compete with domestic production. No tariffs, so no government revenue. In other words, the Pandoran government hates our guts. You know that new president guy? Roland, or something?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s trying his fucking best to increase taxation on our goods, but since they got a tax benefit policy going on, he’s not getting a lot of revenue either way. And since Hyperion’s pretty fucking awesome, they’re losing a shit load of money.”

“I thought you were trying to convince me that Hyperion _is_ a good corporation.”

“There is no such thing as a good corporation, kid, only powerful ones. Okay, okay, long story short, we need more capable newbies like you. Most of that department is only in it for company growth--I mean, so am I, but we gotta have someone to step in and consider political disputes.” He said, “I’m yakking on and on here Rhys. What I’m trying to say is that I’m offering you a straight up job. What do you say?”

“So you _can_ sound smart,” Rhys commented listlessly, half in jest, and half in panic.

“ _Rhys_.”

Rhys was pretty sure he was dreaming. That had to be some kind of detailed, mean dream where he got stranded with a damn billionaire and offered a job to the company of his dreams. He pinched his arm, waiting to the cold reality to hit him. It didn’t work, so he tried again eliciting a small squeak from him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jack demanded, “It’s a yes or no question, come on.”

“Yes,” Rhys blurted, but it came out more of a yelp with his voice cracking at the most inopportune times. He tried again, “Yeah, I accept.”

“Perfect, will be nice to have some new eye candy around,” Jack gave him an appraising look, “Angel would like you.”  

“What?”

“My daughter, she works in the company.”

“She’s twelve?”

“She’s a fucking genius is what she is.” Jack reached back into his jacket again and pulled out a card, “Here’s my business card. Just a formality. I could technically just dial my number in your phone, but it’s more ‘professional’ this way,” he rolled his eyes, “Anyway, welcome to Hyperion, kiddo.”

Rhys took it from him, suddenly feeling so strange at everything that had just happened. Not a few hours ago, he was stranded in the middle of nowhere with no way of getting home. And here he was, securing a career path that ensured him years of stable income.

“I don’t know what to say… thanks, Jack.” Rhys was still expecting it all to be some prank, or to wake up on his bed without a cent in his pockets again. However, the only thing that came was a rush of chilly wind, making his shiver.

Jack got up, throwing away the empty pretzel’s package, “Let’s get into my car. Come on, princess, I have lube and central heating. What’s not to like?”

“I sincerely hope you are joking,” Rhys deadpanned, all feelings of gratitude leaving his body.

“Don’t worry, I won’t taint your purity unless you ask real nice,” he laughed, walking away with his stupid swagger.

Reluctantly, Rhys stood up as well and dusted his pants off.

And of all the things to be thinking about now, with his new job, and his new unlikely friendship, he was thinking about Jack’s _ass_ as he marched away.

The fucker didn’t even help him up.

Following after him, they both got into the car - and alright, Rhys had to contain his excitement because it was still a hell of a car. It was beyond weird sitting on the back seats with not only Hyperion’s CEO but his new boss, but they returned to their easily flowing conversation in no time.

Among talking about the economics and political controversies of being on Pandora, Rhys drifted off with Jack’s warm presence by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when you mix a former economics student with a writer that can harness Jack at _will_.
> 
> Follow us on tumblr you dogs.
> 
>  **Carol989:** [[X]](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhack is great and all but the real OTP is imincognitobtch/Carol989 and their love-child fic.
> 
> Also, we are so sorry that the smut was pushed back to chapter three. This one got a little bit too long and we were forced to cut it for drama’s sake. I hope you all understand.

Rhys clambered out of the conference room door, utterly drained from all the meetings.

It turned out that Jack was right.

Hyperion’s business economics sector needed more intervention than Rhys initially thought. Most of the top dogs in the department were either fixated entirely on profit, while the rest seemed reluctant to state any opposing thought.

For a month now, he had been actively trying to lead some meetings (some of them even ending successfully) with the idea of political and local industry relations in mind. Last week when he had proposed tactics to promote growth both in Hyperion and Pandora, he saw that some parties of the department began to nod their heads in approval or listen attentively in consideration.

Seems as though that one semester elective wasted on drama was good for his public speaking skills.  

Still, despite the slight incline he faced when attempting to recondition his department’s approach (including the whole chaos of moving into his new office), he found little time to get accustomed to his busy life.

For the past month it, he had been in and out of meetings, coffee breaks, working on his computer - yelling at people to do their jobs. He’d get home at eight in the evening and go to work the next day at seven. There was little time to enjoy the new sights of Elpis City, or even explore Hyperion’s famed central base - Helios.

Going from broke undergraduate to an adult with a respectable job that earned him enough to feed himself was quite the change. He still basked on the bitter stares he received from his ex-classmates.

“Maybe I should get myself stranded in the middle of nowhere,” Vaughn had mumbled one day, making Rhys both amused and a little guilty, “See if I can find a rich dude to give me a cool job. Your luck is so unfair, bro.”

And honestly, all Rhys wanted to do was talk to Jack again.

The whole trip fiasco was like a distant dream.

If it wasn’t for his new, shining job Rhys would second guess the reality of the situation. After all, crashing on a desert gas station and getting a ride from Handsome Jack was not normal, or expected - his sisters had barely believed him, only quieting down after he showed the business card. The one with the worn out edges he carried on his pocket everyday. That’s the one.

Sometimes he would take it away and stare, remembering the morning after his car decided to spontaneously kill its own engine - even though it was kinda his fault too. The odd domesticity that fell on Jack’s car as they drove to Lynchwood and how it disappeared like smoke after Rhys managed to find a good enough hotel and call Fiona and a mechanic. After that, Jack was simply gone with a quick ‘Take care, kiddo.’

And had been ever since.

 _At least_ , Rhys thought, _he kept his promise_.

He absentmindedly clung to the hope they would see each other again in the future, but Helios was a big base and Jack was a busy, traveling man so it was better to simply focus on his new duties.

Which may be why he found himself hilariously stupefied upon checking his phone later that evening. 

> You have **(5)** new messages in your inbox: (showing message previews)
> 
> **Vaughn:** ayy bro hows hyperion? is it livin up to the HYPE(rion)? haha im at…
> 
> **Sash** : yo i need some cash
> 
> **ECHO-65001:** Do you want a New-U? A more fulfilling life? Then for $4.99, you can...
> 
> **Yvette:** It was great to finally meet you the other day Rhys. About lunch tomorrow, I…
> 
> **+69 6572 9102:** Hey cupcake, remember me?

His eyes idly skimmed through the texts, deleting the ones from ECHOservices, before freezing rather comically at the sight of the last message.

Rhys recognized the number almost immediately from Jack’s business card - with how he compulsively examined it every day for the whole month. Even now it was still in the pocket of his slacks and he didn’t even need to pull it out to confirm who’s number had just texted him.

Heart hammering, he tapped the text open, noticing it was sent nearly three hours ago. Feeling a rising, unexplainable anger inside him, he wanted to type out questions like, “Where the hell have you been?” and “So you’re talking to me now?” and even, “What happened to ‘take care, kiddo?’”

But instead he wrote: _Is this Jack?_

Almost immediately he received a reply - as if Jack was waiting on him this whole time.

Which was obviously stupid, but a guy can dream, alright? It read:

> **+69 6572 9102:** You bet your sweet ass it is.
> 
> **You** added **+69 6572 9102** as local contact **Jack.**
> 
> **Jack** : Did you miss me?
> 
> **You:** Kinda hard to miss someone I’ve only been with for less than 24 hours.
> 
> **Jack:** Is that anyway to speak to the guy who gave you your job??
> 
> **You:** I dunno what you’re talking about. The guy who gave me my job hasn’t been doing a lot of speaking lately so I wouldn’t know.

The instant he had hit send, his eyes widened.

Ah, shit. Was there a way to delete a text before the other saw it? He’d unwittingly let some of his bitter feelings come out - and he didn’t want that to cause resentment between them.

There was a moment or two when Jack didn’t reply, and Rhys was already signing his dismissal papers in his head. He didn’t even want to imagine what it would say and how this would affect his future jobs. Rhys Somerset, business economics department head, dismissed after 30 days for being a little shit -

> **Jack:** I’m grinning so much right now.

Upon seeing this, Rhys relaxed. He needed to get used to the fact that Jack was always just messing with him.  

> **You:** Did you text me for anything specific or are you just here to bother me?
> 
> **You:** Also, ???
> 
> **Jack:**  Because you’re acting all pissy ‘cause you missed me.
> 
> **Jack:** As expected from my #1 fanboy.

Rhys rolled his eyes, trying to deny it even to himself what effect Jack had on him. But even he had to smile at the other’s words. Not that he’d ever admit it to anyone. So what he ended up typing out was:

> **You:** Told you this before Jack, I’m not a fanboy. Anyway, what did you need?
> 
> **Jack:** Do you know Moxxi’s Red Light?
> 
> **You:** Not really? I haven’t had time to explore much of Elpis city since I got here. Why?
> 
> **Jack:** Good, google it, cupcake, ‘cause we’re going out tonight

Rhys’ eyes widened, but he tried to dampen his sudden excitement with a frown. 

> **You:** We are? Since when?
> 
> **Jack:** Since now, what do you say seven? Seven’s good right? Right
> 
> **Rhys:** Jack, I get off at seven.
> 
> **Jack:** Don’t worry, Rhysie, you’ll get off later too

Oh my fucking _god_.  

> **You** are typing...

Rhys rewrote five different replies to Jack’s comment, but kept erasing it. 

> **Jack:** I don’t even have to be next to you right now to guess the look on your face.
> 
> **Jack:** Moxxi’s Red Light isn’t that far from Helios. Go check it out in Google maps.
> 
> **Jack:** Be there at a quarter past seven. Dress pretty.
> 
> **Jack:** Look for the handsome guy in the suit.
> 
> **Jack:** Peace out, kiddo.

Before he could even formulate a reply - or a coherent thought, Jack had already sent him five messages and left him hanging.

He really needed to stop doing that.

* * *

Rhys was pretty sure he had memorized every inch of his appearance by how long he stood there staring at his reflection. He should be embarrassed, but, come on, who could judge him for being a little unsure before going out with Handsome Jack.

Okay, Vaughn had and Rhys had to admit their half hour phone call was a little too much. That’s why it ended with his friend telling him to ‘go to his fucking date already’ and hanging up before Rhys could say anything else.

By say anything else, Rhys meant profusely and colorfully cuss out Vaughn for even suggesting it was a date.

Which it wasn’t.

Shut up, Vaughn.

It was definitely not a date even if he was relieved he was had worn his tight pants for work that day and just so happened to be in perfect condition to wear on this meeting. It was not a date even though he could see no other reason for Jack to call him after so long.

It was not a damn date, he scolded himself internally because the restaurant Jack had sent him to was a little… a little… date-y, and not the romantic kind.

And seeing the man waiting for him on a more private table-for-two with god damn low lights and looking every inch a wet dream in that suit was definitely Rhys’ idea of a not platonic evening.

That was not good, it was giving his brain things to think about. Things he didn’t need poisoning his mind.

Jack saw him and smirked.

Oh, no.

“Just in time, cupcake,” he gave Rhys an obvious once over, “Gotta say, I was a bit worried my mind was making you better than reality. But you are still just as delicious as I remembered.”

Rhys’ cheeks burned and he rolled his eyes to cover it up, as useless as it was. He sat down very aware of the way Jack’s eyes followed his every movement and remembered himself that was _something_ , alright, but not a date. The man was just a flirt. And enjoyed teasing people way too much.

“So,” he cleaned his throat, daring to ask what had plagued him for so long and not managing to not let anger taint his voice, “Where have you been?”

Jack shrugged, “You know, around. Eden-5, Lynchwood, all over Pandora… Things to see, places to buy and people to do. Feeling better I’m here now, kitten?”

Rhys stuttered, growing more at ease now he recalled how insufferable Jack was.

“Incredible,” he answered dryly.

“Aw, knew it. So how you liking the new gig I got ya, Rhysie? It’s pretty sweet, huh?”

At this, Rhys tried very hard not to grow excited at being able to talk about his new job, but it was difficult not to seem over-enthusiastic with the way Jack was looking at him. It wasn’t like he was worried about looking like a complete nerd in front of the man who was supposedly his boss thrice over.

He cleared his throat, and he managed to say, “It’s, um, going okay.”

“Going ‘okay?’ Is that it? C’mon give me some details here, pumpkin. Any big changes?”

“Well… I managed to get most of the department on my side about the whole government and local industry relations thing.” Rhys said, feeling a swell of pride at his words, “Except for the other department head, Vasquez I think his name was. He’s really adamant about getting a lot of profit.”

“Vasquez? Is that name supposed to ring any bells?”

“Um, tall? Really ok-built with a deep voice?”

Jack’s eyebrows narrowed, “Oho, is that your type Rhys? Got a lot of eyes following you around already or just this one loser?” There was a challenge in his tone like he was disbelieving of the thought that anyone would be after Rhys.

“I’ll have you know that I met this girl named Yvette the other day and we’ve been having lunch together ever since!” The other defended, seeming quite indignant. He didn’t add the fact that she had also been leeching off his money for food. Still, she was an attractive woman nonetheless - tall too.

She just wasn’t an attractive, tall, _and_ handsome CEO that looked like he could hold Rhys up against a wall while they -

“Yvette, huh?” Jack broke Rhys’s delusional train of thought as he reached for his wine glass and swirled the liquid around pensively, “Which department did you say she was in again?”

Rhys blinked, “Um, I didn’t. She’s in the requisitions department - you know, procuring important documents. Products. All that good stuff.”

Jack didn’t say anything.

For some reason, Rhys felt like he fucked up somewhere by the intense stare he was getting from the CEO.

“Is there… is there a problem?”

“You know Rhysie,” Jack looked strangely cruel despite the use of nickname, “I’m starting to think that you bat your eyelashes at _anyone_ with a good offer.”

“Wha - what?” Rhys blubbered, not knowing whether to be shocked or affronted, “What the hell are you even talking about?”

“Just seeing patterns here, kid. Did she offer you money? Or the ‘good stuff’ you talked about?” At this point he had put the glass down cause it looked like his tight fingers were about to break the stem, “And this Vasquez guy? You like his voice? Did you sweet-talk him too with your fascination with economics?”

“Are you kidding me, Jack?” Rhys demanded, hands curling into tight fists on his lap, “Did you bring me all this way just to fucking hound me? I don’t just - just _bat_ my eyelashes at anyone to get ahead in life! How could you even say that?”

“I dunno. Just telling you how it is.”

Rhys went silent, feeling his body shaking in rage at the other’s accusations. His next words were quiet, and he heard Jack lean in closer to hear him better.

“Do you know how hard I’ve been working for the past month?” He said, throat filling up with so much emotion that it was hard to speak, “It’s been meeting after meeting of trying to convince your fucking company to think about something else apart from money - but I guess that’s hard to do when even their CEO can’t trust his employees to be nothing but money-greedy bastards.”

Rhys stood up suddenly, chair scraping harshly against the fine wood-floor, “And what about _you_ Jack? Aren’t you the king of corporate bullshit? What did you call me here for apart from your own self-gain?” Not even the stunned look on the CEO’s face could stop him from talking, “Calling me down here to insult me and - and _humiliate_ me. This must be so entertaining for you.”  

He already felt some tears prickling the corner of his eyes, so he turned swiftly on his feet lest Jack see him cry, and marched out of the restaurant. At least that time he didn’t need that asshole to take him anywhere.

Behind him he swore he heard someone from the sidelines slow-clap at his departure.

* * *

 

> **You** have **(13)** new messages in your inbox:
> 
> **Yvette:** About that project I think we should meet ant…
> 
> **Vaughn:** Hey bro.
> 
> **Jack:** Cupcake let’s talk
> 
> **Jack:** C’mon don’t be like that I…
> 
> **Jack:** Answer the damn thing…
> 
> **Jack:** Rhys I know you…
> 
> Slide to show more.

Rhys threw his phone down onto his sofa as he stomped into his new apartment, face burning in fury. From his phone he heard an electronic voice drone out:   

> **You** have **(1)** new voice messages in your inbox.

Did Jack think that he would pick up - or for that matter, talk to him? He wanted to hurl something across the room, but instead he settled for launching himself into his sofa, and burying his face into one of the decorative wicker pillows that he had always kept tidy. Now they were strewn about his living room floor.

His phone wouldn’t stop ringing from beside him.

So Jack had stopped sending cowardly messages, and instead opted to call him for a direct approach? Fuck him.

Fuck him and his stupid fucking perfect hair.

Rhys dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out Jack’s business card.

Looking at it with perhaps the most intense disdain a piece of paper even deserved, Rhys ripped it to shreds, and threw it somewhere behind him as he hid his face back into the cushions, attempting to calm himself.

Which would have been so much easier if his phone would stop _fucking_ ringing.

Angrily, he swiped at the contraption and hit the answer button, crying out a heated, “Hello?!”

“Whoa bro, what’s got you so mad?” He heard Vaughn’s voice say cautiously through the small speakers, “Thought you had the date of your life just now.”

At this, Rhys finally felt himself explode, “He’s horrible!”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. What now? Who are we talking about? Is this that Vasquez-guy -”

“I’m talking about Handsome _fricking_ Jack! The most detestable fucking human being on the face of this planet!”

“Whoa dude, can we backtrack a little bit here? I’m kinda confused. I thought you were excited to have dinner with him?”

Rhys shot to his feet and was suddenly pacing about his now messy living room with vengeance, “He had the fucking audacity - the _nerve_ the ask me if I’m the kind of guy to sleep my way up through the corporate ladder - you know what he said? Get this, he said, ‘do you bat your eyelashes at anyone with a sweet deal?’” Rhys threw one of his hands up in frustration, “Who even says that to people? _Bat_ my eyelashes? What am I, some sort of gigolo?”

“Wow… what a prick. What brought this on?” came Vaughn’s annoyingly reasonable reply, “Did you say anything to provoke him or something?”

“Provoke him? What does it matter! He was being a disrespectful asshole! He had no right to speak to me like that!”

“Yeah, I agree with you here, bud. But what happened? It doesn't excuse what he said, but it might shed some light on why he said those things.”

“I dunno,” Rhys brought two fingers to the bridge of his nose, eyebrows bunching up, “I said something about - um, about Yvette I think. And having lunch with her.”

“And?”

“We talked about Vasquez. And my position in the department.”

“Is that all? Seems fishy that he would suddenly turn into a complete asshole from just that.”

Rhys bit his lip, suddenly contemplative, “He did seem weird after the whole Vasquez thing though.”

“Hm? How so?”

“Well… he seemed kinda angry about the fact that Vasquez was giving me some attention.” He added as an afterthought, “Yvette too for that matter.”

“Oh, dude…”

“What, what, what?” He demanded, not liking the other’s tone. “What?”

“He’s jealous.”

“He’s not - pff, come on, he isn’t…” Rhys trailed off, and promptly gave up his excuse as realization hitting him. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, ready to the headache it would cause him, “He’s jealous.”

“I mean, duh, I don’t why you are surprised. It _was_ a date after all,” Vaughn explained like it was a very obvious fact.

“Yeah, alright, but I didn’t know at first okay?” Which, looking back now, was kind of embarrassing of him.

Rhys didn’t want to know what that entailed. What the word “date” would change from all their previous encounters before and how it made everything seem more wicked now. Like he’d been playing with fire without knowing it.

But he didn’t dwell too much on it.

After all:

“Fuck him,” he decided with a huff, “I met the guy once and he thinks he can treat me like I sleep around just because I said some things on our first date? He doesn’t _own_ me!”

He could almost see Vaughn nodding to his words, “That’s right, you tell him.”

“I’m not going to tell him anything. It’s over, let Jack think whatever he wants.”

“Ok, hold up - ”

“Thanks for listening, bro. It was a long day, I’m going to bed now.”

Rhys half heard Vaughn’s protests before ending the call. He spent a long time rolling around, still fuming about Jack’s absurd behavior. It was typical of those executive people, think they can act like they are entitled of everything just because they can buy it all. If Jack thought Rhys would come back crawling to his ridiculous lap like a dog, he was wrong.

The guy may have given him his job, he may have been nice to talk to, he may be hot and made that nice on the gas station all the more remarkable, but Rhys had standards.

* * *

 

> **Your** inbox is almost full. **You** have **(99+)** messages in your --

Rhys ignored the notification and just turned off his alarm that morning.

Two days.

Two days of incessant messages and calls.

And then radio-silence. It had been a whole week since their first disastrous date, and after only two days of messaging Rhys constantly, Jack had ceased all communication all together.

And still, there was no point in checking his inbox anymore because they were all messages of the same repetitive garble. The later messages a few days ago had been angry by the look of the message previews - indignant even. Rhys didn’t open them.

Instead he went to work as he usually did at seven and conducted less and less meetings with half the department on his side now rather than on Vasquez’s.

Bluntly put, his career was going phenomenally: his co-workers looked up to him and respected him, he earned himself a credible reputation among the staff, his meetings garnered more sit-ins, and he even found himself enjoying all the suggestions others had for him.

But again, bluntly put, Rhys was still fucking miserable.

And he was never going to admit that it was because of Jack, but it was.

He’d half expected Jack to fire him the next day and have him evicted out of his new apartment without a penny to his name. But he didn’t. Like Rhys had wanted, Jack had left him completely alone.

He didn’t know what that said about him though, hoping for something - maybe even wanting a face-to-face apology.

Yet, apart from the texts and phone-calls, it seemed like Jack was completely against the idea of saying sorry in person.

Even just barging into Rhys’s office and telling him off would have been better than complete disregard.

But if Jack was waiting for Rhys to come to _him_ , he had another thing coming. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **imincognitobtch:** I suck. We suck. It was supposed to end in this chapter with a good date but then my problematic, angst-driven mind just decided to write the “you bat your eyelashes at anyone” bomb and we both got carried away. We are sorry.
> 
>  **Carol989:** I have no regrets, the more angst the better lmao suffer with us
> 
> Please remind us for the next chapter: backrubs (idk)
> 
> Follow us on tumblr you dogs.
> 
>  **Carol989:** [[X]](http://keepburningbitch.tumblr.com/)


End file.
